


A Brick Wall and a Halved World

by stargazedaspirations



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Multi, google translate french
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 16:56:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6248053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargazedaspirations/pseuds/stargazedaspirations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Alexander Hamilton forgets about an essay for his classical literature class, he completely and utterly panics. Luckily, he has the amazing, generous, and <em>oh-so-devilishly handsome</em> John Laurens to help him, with a few hiccups in between.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Brick Wall and a Halved World

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've published anything on here and I'm complete Hamilton trash so why not. 
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy!

Alexander Hamilton sketched stick figures into the corner of his notebook as the lecture droned in one ear and out the other. Multiple yawns bounced off the walls from the students around him. The professor’s voice dripped with a combination of cough syrup and monotone pitches as he seemed to stick to one place in the front of the classroom, making no attempt at being even the tiniest bit exciting. Four words: Alex wanted to die. 

Classical literature, as his professor would put it, was meant to be the “pinnacle of modern customs as we know it”, but the only thing Alex was getting accustomed to was when the clock would signal the end of class. A click of a button dragged the PowerPoint slide to another one, and Alex began to believe that he’d never escape this Shakespeare-ridden hell. 

He fumbled with the bottom of his sweatshirt in boredom. Of course, he definitely didn’t _want_ to be here, but he needed the English credit in order to graduate. It wasn’t that he was failing this class; he could whip up a twelve page essay in a single night without a problem----it was just boring. Alex was a writer, not a reader; he could certainly spend the rest of his life without hearing the words ‘theme’ or ‘archetype’ or ‘turn to page 394 in Macbeth’. And boy, did he want to. He began to contemplate various ways one could start a fire using lead from a mechanical pencil and some wrinkled notebook paper when the clock struck twelve P.M. and he was finally able to leave. 

Quickly stuffing his doodle-covered folders into his bag, he made his way down the stairs of the lecture pit, taking deep breaths and anticipating relaxation in his dorm. His ratty sneakers squeaked on the linoleum as he scooted his way past other students, slowly reaching the doorframe little by little. Once through, he stopped and took a drink at the nearby water fountain and hesitated, waiting for a familiar clack of heels and a scent of pomegranate body spray to follow behind him.

The heels clacked. The room smelled like Bath and Body Works. “How about that lecture, huh?” Angelica said, walking next to him and matching his pace. The two left the English building side by side and strutted on the campus sidewalk. The sky had a clear, beginning-of-May-and-the-end-of-the-school-year haze to it which made Angelica’s bouncy curls sparkle in the sun. 

“I’d rather shove a machete down my throat.” 

Angelica laughed. “The feeling’s mutual. But, hey, we’re almost done with the class. I think we have one more unit.”

Alex sighed of relief and brushed his hair out of his eyes. It had been up in a bun earlier, but the stray strands were driving him nuts so he had yanked the hair tie out. “You don’t even know how happy I am to hear that.”

“Plus, we have that essay due tomorrow, but I was done with it about a week ago.”

Alex’s steps faltered. “Essay?” he said with uncertainty laced in his throat. “What essay?”

Angelica’s shoes stopped clicking. “You know, the essay on Shakespeare? Twenty pages? He assigned it a month ago, Alexander. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

Alex had definitely forgotten. 

“O-Oh yeah!” he stuttered. He knew lying to Angelica wasn’t the best idea, but it saved him from getting a lecture about how unorganized he was. In his defense, it wasn’t his fault he only had an interest in his government classes and didn’t plan accordingly for any other subjects. Or maybe it was. “The Shakespeare essay. Right. I have that done. I had that done a while ago.”

Angelica looked skeptical, but seemed to buy it anyway. “Right. Well, I’m going back to my dorm. I’ll see you for French class later.” The scent of pomegranates wafted away.

And so did Alex’s sanity. 

When did the professor assign that essay? Alex panicked. He hadn’t even researched anything yet. He tried to go through a list of options in his head but they were jumbled with choruses of _how the hell did you forget about something like this you fucking idiot_ and _Angelica’s right you need to be more organized you dipshit_ ; he couldn’t believe himself. A twenty page essay! How could he have forgotten to write a twenty page essay?

Alexander was fucked. He was absolutely, positively fucked.

He checked his watch; 12:10 P.M. Class started at 9 A.M. the next day, so as long as he really cracked down on his essay tonight he could hopefully have it finished by tomorrow. But twenty pages! He wasn’t sure if he could handle all of that in one night. 

The first thing he needed was research. The essay was supposed to be about Shakespeare’s life, but given the fact that he literally did not care whatsoever, he wasn’t exactly an expert on the guy. Alex, still in a fit of panic, reluctantly decided that he needed to pull a few books off the shelf to even contemplate the idea of writing anything. 

_Fuck_ , Alex thought. _Fuck, fuck, fuck_. He wasn’t normally too worried about his grade in classical literature, but if he flunked this essay he was definitely not going to get the grade he wanted. Angelica hadn’t readily stated how many points the essay was worth, but an essay was, well, an essay, so he was freaked out all the same. Alex’s mind raced and he took a deep breath; he ran his fingers through his hair and began to stride a few blocks down the sidewalk toward the campus library. 

The library was a small, obscure brick building that was perched under a large oak tree not too far from the English Hall. Not many students visited the library except for research purposes; other students had the opportunity to work there to obtain experience for their major. The crisp leaves of the oak tree swayed in the hazy sunlight and provided shade for the library. Alex could only imagine how it looked in the fall, when the leaves transformed and detached, leaving a halo of crunchy leaves surrounding the building on all sides.

Alex had never really visited the library on his own time; not being a lover of reading, he had never really found the time nor the desire to fit it into his daily schedule. He silently cursed, realizing he didn’t even know where the Shakespeare books would be. Silently stressing the _fuck_ out, he crossed the threshold of the library and wiped his feet on the Welcome mat. Around him, there were several tables with computers; many students were working diligently throughout the room. Straight ahead, a mahogany reception desk had a tall, tan man stocking books behind the counter.

A vending machine rested to his left. He might as well get something to drink if he was going to be here for a while. Alex fished out his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a crinkled dollar bill and shoved it in the vending machine with a tint of annoyance in his gesture. A few moments later, a water bottle dropped in the bottom; the sound seemed to ring throughout the library, but no one seemed to notice. Alex snatched up the drink and made his way over to the reception desk.

The tan man behind the desk seemed to be a student; his jet-black hair was tied back in a messy ponytail. He was bent over, probably reviewing the stocks of returned books, when Alex approached.

He didn’t turn around at first. Alex cleared his throat.

“Oh! So sorry, Monsieur,” he exclaimed, too loud for the ringing quiet of the library around him. “What can I help you with?” His name tag read ‘Lafayette’; Alex sensed a hint of a French accent.

“Oh, I’m looking for some books on Shakespeare,” Alex stated. “It’s for an essay.”

Lafayette broke into a smile. “Shakespeare. It’s Professor Seabury’s essay, isn’t it? I remember writing that. I wanted to jump off a building. I’ll show you where the books are.” He walked around the counter and led Alex to several different shelves.

_Shakespeare 101. The Complete Biography of William Shakespeare. Shakespeare for Dummies._ The titles started to become a blur.

Alex peered over the books he was holding in his hands. “So, are you French?” He immediately cringed; he probably sounded really intrusive.

“Hmm?”

“Earlier. You called me Monsieur.”

Lafayette picked a couple more books of the shelves and handed them to Alex. “Ha. I guess that’s a giveaway. Parlez-vous français?”

“Ouais, je prends français depuis le lycée.”

“I’m impressed,” Lafayette handed him another book; Alex’s arms started to ache. “But oui, I grew up in France but we moved to the United States. I’ve been working here at the library for about two months to help me with my English major; I love it here. I could work here forever,” he faltered a moment. “But nevermind that, Monsieur. These are most of the books that we had in stock right now; I hope they’ll be good enough for your essay.”

Alex smiled. “Thanks, I appreciate the help. À plus tard.”

“À plus tard,” Lafayette reiterated and went back over to the reception desk, where he continued to look at the stocks of returned books.

His arms weighed down by several books he would rather drown than read, he lugged himself over to a secluded room in the back of the main area. Only five small desks were placed throughout the room with a tall bookshelf in the middle. There was one person in the room other than Alex, and he was on the right side of the bookshelf; naturally, Alex set his plethora of books on a small table to the left of the bookshelf to give him some privacy to focus on not failing his classical literature class. Beginning with the biggest book, _Shakespeare 101,_ he clicked his mechanical pencil and began to take notes.

An hour went by, then another. Researching had turned out to be fairly easy, to Alex’s relief. Within another hour or two he would have all the information he needed and could actually start writing. He flipped his notebook over to start a new page of notes.

Suddenly, Alex heard a noise from the other side of the bookshelf. 

He didn’t think much of it at first, so he kept working. But then another noise rang out. And another, and another, and another.

The person on the other side of the bookshelf was hiccuping. Normally, Alex could focus with noise around him, but with his huge ass essay due tomorrow he didn’t have the time or mental tolerance for distractions. He knew that hiccups were something that a person couldn’t control, but enough was enough when the other person was hiccuping so much that their diaphragm might actually explode. 

Alex was pissed. This guy’s hiccups weren’t just distracting---they were _annoying._ He needed to get this essay done. In a fit of irritation, Alex pushed his chair back to walk around the shelf and tell the guy to move to another room.

When Alex saw who was behind the shelf, his steps faltered.

Sitting in an arm chair with a fiction novel in the crook of his arm was a man around the same age as Alex. He had a posture that had a  
I-look-like-I-could-maybe-beat-you-up-but-I'm-actually-a-tiny-bean façade to it. A green sweatshirt stretched down to his waistline, where his gym-rat legs were crossed. His hair was insanely curly, maybe even more than Lafayette’s in the next room---it couldn't be restrained if he tried, in which he did; a bun had been thrown together messily. It was charming, though; a few stray curls framed his angular face and his skin was so smooth that Alex could paint a sunrise on it. 

He was insanely hot, and Alex felt his hands shake for a moment. There was no way he could be rude to this guy---much less kick him out of the room.

Alex debated sitting back down. Too late--the guy averted his gaze from his novel when he heard Alex approach. _Shit._ He had to talk to him about something; anything. _Think. THINK._

“Hi,” _\--hiccup---_ “Can I help you?” His voice seemed to drip with hazy honey.

“Um,” Alex started. _THINK, Alexander. You’re making a fool of yourself._ His water bottle felt like an unnecessary weight in his right hand. 

His water bottle. His water bottle! This guy had the hiccups! He outstretched his hand, handing him the bottle. “You sound like you need a drink.”

Curly-hair chuckled. Then he hiccuped again. “I'm so sorry. My hiccups aren't normally this bad.”

“Oh, it's no problem,” Alex lied. The man’s curls bounced in another hiccup. “I've had hiccups for longer. It sucks.”

“What's the longest you've ever had hiccups?”

“You don't want to know.”

The man laughed, throwing his head back for a moment. Alex wanted to _melt_ ; his smile imprinted an image in his head to reminisce later, and his laugh was----holy _shit._

“I’m John, by the way,” _\---hiccup---_ “John Laurens.” He outstretched his hand for Alex to shake. Alex took his hand, and their palms seemed to melt together like an artist combining shades of gray into a rainbow. 

Within a second, John’s hand was gone and he was back to his dreary shade of gray on his dreary color palette.

“Alexander,” Alex said, in a daze. “I'm Alexander Hamilton.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Alexander,” _\--hiccup---_ John closed his book and set it on the wooden table next to him; he slipped his hands into his pockets (the ones Alex definitely did _not_ want to hold) and adjusted himself in his chair. “So,” _\---hiccup---_ , “what brings you to the library?”

Alex shuffled his feet. “I’m writing an essay over Shakespeare.”

John’s face broke into another smile. “I remember that essay. I had that class last semester. The professor is literally,” _\---hiccup---_ “the most boring person I've ever met.” He stood up and straightened his sweatshirt; then he walked over to the mound of books that were residing on Alex’s desk on the other side of the bookshelf. “Can I help you with it at all? I think I have my old folder from that class in my bag. I’m pretty sure I got a B, maybe a C on it.” _\---hiccup---_ “I’m really not one for essays, but if you want I can compare my graded one to yours to see if there’s anything I can help you with---,” the words and the hiccups came tumbling out of nowhere and Alex wanted to listen to him ramble all day long. 

Alex pulled out a chair and sat down, flipping through the pages in his sources while John scrounged his bag for his folder. With a triumphant ‘yes!’ whispered under his breath, John yanked his blue folder from his ratty school bag and sat down next to Alex.

“First things first,” John began with a witty smile painted across his face, but hiccuped again, “you don’t need these.” Alex’s eyebrows rose as John quickly closed the books that Lafayette had given him. “Since I am the generous, thoughtful, _oh-so-great_ John Laurens, I think I’m just going to let you paraphrase my essay so you don’t have to waste time gathering information.”

A thousand weights lifted off of Alex’s chest simultaneously. His face broke into a sigh of relief; he couldn’t believe John was being so nice to him! “Are you serious? Oh my goodness, you are a lifesaver. This is due tomorrow.”

John gasped in exasperation. “You waited until the night before to write a twenty-page essay?”

Alex smiled under a thin layer of sheepishness. “I sort of….forgot about it.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you have the generous, thoughtful, and _oh-so-devilishly handsome_ John Laurens to help you.” John gave him a playful wink and Alex’s insides burned so hot he wouldn’t have been surprised if his organs were grilled medium-rare.

Over the course of the next few hours, the sound of flipping pages was the most prominent noise in the small room. The quiet whispers between the two of them said things like “should I paraphrase this” and “maybe you should switch these” and “I don’t think your thesis is strong enough; try adding this”. Little by little, with each tick of the clock more words, lines, and pages were added to Alex’s essay. Alex had ended up skipping his French class with Angelica to finish his essay with John. Lafayette wouldn’t have approved, but Alex didn’t really think otherwise; he definitely didn’t want to ditch John to learn new verb tenses. He’d take a hot guy over the French language any day of the week. 

Even though the ordeal lasted around six hours, the only thing Alex cared about was the fact that their hands accidentally brushed four times; not that he was counting or anything. 

At last, Alex’s essay was finally completed. It was thick, a full twenty pages that left the library’s crappy staples bent and disfigured. At one point, Lafayette had knocked on the door to tell them that the library was closing in five minutes, but both of them were too caught up in the fact that they actually finished a gigantic fucking essay together. Alex was overwhelmed with joy; his grade _wasn’t_ going to drop to the pits of Hell! He wanted to hug the living daylights out of John.

He may have even wanted to kiss him.

Suddenly, the lights in the room shut off and a French accent threaded through the crack in the door. 

“Jesus Christ, my shift is over and you two are still in here? Si vous ne sortez pas bientôt, je vais shove les livres que je vous ai donné vos ânes. I want to go home, grab your stuff and leave, s'il vous plaît.”

He spoke too quickly for Alex to understand every word, but the message was clear. Using the flashlight on his iPhone, he scrambled his stuff into his bag, John doing the same.

Fumbling through the dark, Alex’s foot caught on the leg of the chair and he lost his balance; luckily, he caught himself in time (it would have been nice to fall into John’s arms, but not everyone gets what they want). His bag slung over his shoulder and his essay complete, he and John scrounged the wall with their palms to find the door handle. 

They crossed the threshold of the doorway and Lafayette was standing there, greeting them with a smirk and the jangling of the library keys in his left hand. “The library’s closed for today. You guys were in there for a long time.” Alex detected a speck of playfulness in his tone.

“We were working on an essay,” John said, fleeting a glance at Alex.

“Je parie que vous étiez.” Lafayette muttered with a flash of a smile.

Alex chose to ignore the comment, focusing his attention on getting his hair-tie off his wrist and into his hair. He flickered his line of vision between John and Lafayette. “You two know each other?”

“Oui, we’ve been friends for a long time. John’s always here reading. I’m starting to get sick of him.” Lafayette snickered when John playfully hit him on the shoulder. “I’m only joking. John’s one of my best friends.”

John’s curls bounced when he nodded. “Your only friend.”

“Tais-toi,” Lafayette averted his gaze to the keys in his palm. “Well, it’s getting late and I have a frozen TV dinner waiting for me at my dorm. Don’t forget about your overdue books, John! Au revoir.” 

With that, John and Alex followed him out the door and mingled on the sidewalk outside the library. They heard Lafayette’s footsteps echo into the parking lot; then his engine signaled that he was off the premises for the night. 

Over the tops of the trees, the night sky was a deep, rich blue that reminded Alexander of blueberries. A blanket of stars was scattered throughout, with the only juxtaposition of their brightness being the various streetlights in the parking lot. There was a lasting, comfortable silence between him and John, with the sound of the crickets and the sandpaper-like scruff of sidewalk under Alex’s feet intermingling between. 

John was the one to break the silence. “So,” he said.

“So.” 

Within a few seconds, smiles broke out and child-like giggling was heard. Both of them were tired and delusional from staring at pieces of paper for so long that it took several minutes for them to stop laughing. John’s laugh made Alexander’s head spin.

The laughter finally subsided. “Thank you so much for helping me today. I don’t think I would’ve gotten done without you,” Alex was suddenly stricken with exhaustion and wanted to arrange a meeting with his pillow.

“It’s no problem!” John said. “After all, I am _the oh-so-generous_ John Laurens.”

Alex’s mind flash backed to the wink he gave him earlier that day.

Correction: He wanted to arrange a joint meeting between him, John, and his pillow.

The laughing between them returned, only interrupted with John ripping a small piece of paper and quickly writing something in pen. He handed it to Alex. “Here’s my phone number,” he said, looking like he was trying not to stare at his feet. “You seem pretty cool, we should hang out sometime.”

_Hang out._ Not go out.

Although that wink had said something else to Alex, he could be completely wrong. John could be straight; Alex wasn’t that experienced in picking up signals anyways.

“Well, I have to dash. Text me, Alexander Hamilton.” With that, the _oh-so-devilishly handsome_ John Laurens winked again and Alex’s face felt like a furnace as John walked to his car.

Maybe John wasn’t completely straight. 

The thought resided in his head during his meeting with his pillow.  
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The clock struck 9 A.M. the next day and Alex was already in his seat for classical literature, his completed essay in his hands. Students filed through the door in flocks, some rushing to their seats and others to the stapler at the front of the room to staple their essays. The Professor walked in last, his briefcase in his left hand and a piece of chalk in the other; he set down his case and wrote _ESSAY DUE_ in large, chalky letters on the board. He placed the chalk back on the tray and sat down, ready to start the lesson once everybody's essays were placed on the counter in front of him. 

Alex got out of his seat and followed Angelica to the stapler. “Hey,” he said, watching her staple her papers. She placed her essay on the top of the stack and Alex put his on top of hers.

“Where were you at French class yesterday?” She questioned as they walked up the steps to their seats.

“Writing my essay,” Alex sat down and Angelica sat next to him.

“So you _did_ forget about it! I had a feeling. You know, Alex, even though you think this class is boring it _is_ required for you to graduate. You need to take it more seriously.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I just can't focus when the professor’s voice sounds like an engine.”

“Alex, I can't either, but-----,”

“Alright, class. Take out your notes. We’re starting a new lecture today.” The professor's voice, although loud, made Alex think about starting a fire again. 

His phone buzzed. 

**From John** : _Hey, where are you at right now? Are you busy?_

Alex’s heart skipped the tiniest beat.

**To John** : _Sadly, yes. I'm in classical literature class._

**From John** : _The one we wrote the essay for? Ouch. I'm in the library right now missing your company. Try not to die of boredom._

**To John** : _I want to stab my pencil in my neck._

For some reason, it took John a few minutes to reply. Angelica noticed him texting and nudged him in the arm to get him to listen to the lecture. 

Alex loved Angelica, but when his phone finally buzzed again there was no way he was ignoring it.

**From John** : _No, please don't stab yourself. Would you want to get a drink sometime? I know a great bar off-campus. If not, that's fine. If you stab your neck you won’t be able to go._

Alex was going to _scream._

John Laurens just asked him out.

Not even to _hang out._ He asked him out on a _date._

His hands were faintly shaking as he typed a reply. 

**To John** : _I would absolutely love to. How about tonight?_

Angelica noticed him smiling down at his phone. “Who are you texting?” She whispered. 

“A guy I met at the library yesterday.”

Angelica put her pen down. “Woah. Okay. I don't even care about the lecture anymore. Tell me about him. Is he cute?”

“I'll tell you later. He's asking me out right now.”

Angelica clapped her hand over her smiling mouth. “Oh my god, Alex! You need to introduce me. When can you introduce me?”

“Focus on the lecture, Angelica.”

She shot a look at Alex before she picked her pen back up and continued writing, brushing her curls out of her line of vision. She seemed to be smiling down at her paper. Alex’s phone buzzed again.

**From John** : _Sounds great. I'll see you then <3_

It took Alex everything he had not to leave class to go to the library and pin him against the bookshelf in the tiny room.  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The bar John had mentioned was a small one, tucked away on a little street corner shrouded in misty evening fog. It seemed to be unpopular, with the deficiency of cars in the parking lot; the only ones Alex could spot were a couple black ones close to the sidewalk and a strikingly red one parked near his. Cozy streams of light became more evident in the cracks in the door as Alex walked closer to the entrance, and soft piano music filled his ears with bliss. He tucked one hand in his jacket pocket and used the other to open the door and enter the bar. 

Technically, John wasn’t supposed to meet him there for another half hour. Alex had insisted on getting there early so he could concentrate on not screwing up any attempts at conversation with John; sometimes he would stutter and it would leave an awkward vibe on both parties. Alex wanted tonight to be perfect. He wanted to buy John a drink and kiss him and take him home and ask him to marry him and move to New York City and adopt ten kids----

But maybe he was getting ahead of himself. 

Alex sat at a bar stool a few seats down from a stunningly gorgeous lady clad in a red dress. She was drinking a martini and softly humming along to the piano, tapping her stilettos on the wooden floor to the beat. Her drink looked delicious, and Alex was curious to see what it would taste like. 

The bartender had her back facing Alex, fixing drinks for other people throughout the bar. Her hands worked fast, but meticulously; she seemed like she was trying to get the drinks properly up to the status quo as fast as possible. Her teal shirt had a few wrinkles in it that scrunched up at the bottom; they accentuated her curves and Alex could sense the lady in red looking the bartender up and down. 

When she turned around, Alex nearly had a double take. 

“Eliza!” Alex exclaimed. “I didn’t know you worked here!”

Eliza gasped and put a hand over her chest, setting her drink mixer back down on the tabletop. “Is that you, Alex? I haven’t seen you in forever!” She reached over the counter and wrapped her arms around him; she smelled like coconuts and memories of him and Angelica as children. “What brings you here?”

“What brings _you_ here, Eliza? I thought you worked in retail.”

Eliza rolled her eyes and gave a sly grin, flipping her hair over her teal shoulder. “I used to, but it became too much for me. People not folding the clothes the way they found them, mothers complaining about the lack of provided strollers, screaming children; things like that.” She picked up the drink mixer again and continued to add more liquids in the container. “This is a lot more fun for me. I actually get to know my customers,” she leaned in and locked eyes with his gaze across the wooden table, softening her voice to a whisper. “I’m actually still single and I’ve got my eye on a few people. _Includingthatgirloverthereinthered_.” Eliza suddenly acted like she was having a huge coughing fit, but winked at Alex. She swiftly put a finger to her lips and glanced at the girl with the martini, then put her hands back to work at making drinks. 

Alex chuckled, shrugging his jacket off and placing it in his lap. He quickly changed the subject to keep from arousing the suspicion of the girl in red. “I’m actually here on a date.”

Eliza’s jaw dropped. “REALLY? WITH WHO?”

Alex broke into a grin but waved his hands at her to quiet her down. 

“Oh. Sorry,” she lowered her voice. “Who are you on a date with?” 

“John Laurens.”

“OH MY GOD,” she squealed and her hair bounced as she jumped.

“Eliza! Shush!”

“Whoops, sorry again,” she said giddily. “But John Laurens? Oh my god. He comes here during the weekends; especially when he’s stressed. You guys would be so cute _oh my god_.”

Alex wondered what John could be stressing about. Classwork? Family?

A boyfriend?

Alex hoped he could contribute to that last one.

An angry voice at a table across the room began to complain at how long his drink was taking. A few people around him joined in and within a few seconds the table in the corner was full of sleazy complaints. 

“I guess that’s my cue,” Eliza laughed. “ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, I’M BRINGING THEM,” she shouted. 

Alex shot her a confused look.

“They’re so drunk, they won’t even notice. Watch this.” Eliza winked at him again; Alex chuckled incredulously, turning around in his bar stool to see where Eliza was going. She placed the beers on a platter and made her way out from behind the counter, nearing the table of alcohol-dazed, middle-aged men. “ALRIGHT, HERE YOU GO YOU DRUNK FUCKS,” Eliza set the platter down on the table of men and choruses of ‘finally’ and ‘it’s about time’ slurred in a halo around her. They didn’t even seem to register that they were insulted. Looking back at Alex, she flicked one in the back of the head. He didn’t even flinch, and continued to chug his beer; Eliza threw her head back and laughed. She gave Alex a thumbs up.

Alex burst into laughter. Even though this tiny bar probably didn’t pay her well, she seemed to be making the best out of her job. He wondered what Angelica would have to say about Eliza as a bartender, or if she even knew that she was one. It was probably good that Eliza wasn’t at home with Peggy all the time and that she could get herself out into the world instead of swamping herself with classwork.

“She’s hilarious, isn’t she?” said a smooth, satin-like voice next to him; her vocal chords sounded like red ribbons trying to wrap him in a bow and entice him closer. Alex looked to his right; the girl in the scarlet dress had scooted closer and was now fumbling with the edges of her lipstick-stained martini glass right next to him. “You seem to know her well.” Her hair tumbled over her shoulders like a caramel drizzle.

“Yeah,” Alex glanced at Eliza, who was serving drinks to various people around the bar, smiling and nodding at the customers. “I’m best friends with her sister; we’ve known each other since elementary school.”

The girl glanced behind her and her eyes followed Eliza’s figure around the room. She turned back to Alex, a twinkle in her eyes and a question on her lips. “I hope you don’t mind me getting straight to the point,” she twirled a strand of hair around her finger, “but is she single? I’m asking for a friend.”

“Oh really?” Alex questioned. “Who’s asking?”

“Me.” Her lipstick shined with deviousness, like she wanted to leave scarlet lip stains down Eliza’s neck. Her lips were the paintbrush and Eliza was the canvas. 

“I figured.” Alex was planning on telling Eliza everything this girl says and Eliza was going to go _nuts._

“Honestly, she’s gorgeous. She’s one of the only reasons I keep ordering martinis here.” She smiled a glossy, dazzling smile and Alex could picture Eliza swooning. 

“Any other reason why you keep ordering drinks here?”

“Not a single one.”

“Right,” Alex averted his gaze back to Eliza for a second before lowering his voice and whispering to the woman next to him, secrecy laced between his words. “Listen. I’m pretty sure she’s into you too. She thinks you’re stunning.”

“Really?” Her whole face lit up; she lost interest in her martini and placed her elbows on the wooden counter to lean into the conversation a bit further. “What did she say?”

“You’ll have to ask her yourself.”

She chuckled and adjusted herself in her seat, her red dress crinkling in all the right places; Alex could definitely see why Eliza was interested, even if he wasn’t. “Do you know when her shift ends?”

“I can ask her if you want me to. What’s your name, by the way? I'll put in a few words for you. She’s been dying to know more about you.” Alex gave a sly grin.

“Maria.” The name sounded like a mocha swirl in the air. She crossed a stiletto-adorned leg over the other and took another sip of her martini, smirking into the glass.

“Nice to meet you, Maria,” Alex took her hand and shook it; seduction, silk, and the scent of cinnamon lingered on his hand once he pulled away. He draped his jacket over the back of his chair and scanned the room for Eliza, who was still passing out an endless amount of drinks for an endless amount of customers. Spotting her, he strode over to where she was taking two glasses of beer off her tray and grabbed her by the elbow, dragging her over to the threshold of the ladies’ restroom after she had placed the drinks on the customers’ table. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she said. “Easy on the grip, boy. What do you want?” She crossed her arms and flicked her hair out of her eyes, uncertainty in her stance and another wrinkle in her shirt on her elbow from where Alex had grabbed it. 

Alex smirked and slipped a hand into the pocket of his jeans. “I just talked to the girl in the dress.”

Eliza almost dropped her tray of drinks. “NO WAY,” she exclaimed, but caught herself when a few customers looked round. “No way,” she said in a quieter tone, her face breaking out into a mixture of panic and giddiness. “What did she say? Did you talk about me? Does she know my name? Do I even know her name? Does she----”

“Eliza! Eliza,” Alex threw his head back in laughter, waving his palms to calm her down. “Her name’s Maria. She’s into you.”

Eliza slammed her tray on the nearest table and grabbed Alex by the shoulders. Two customers spilled their beer from the vibration of the table and gave Eliza scouring looks, but she wasn’t paying attention. “NO WAY,” she screamed. “WHAT DID SHE SAY?”

The two customers stood up and made it a point to not leave a tip as they left the bar.

“You’ll have to ask her yourself.” Alex beamed at Eliza, looking her directly in the eyes. “Go tell her when your shift ends.” 

Eliza took a deep breath, gazing over at Maria from across the bar. “Yeah, I should--” she cleared her throat, “I should probably do that.” She smoothed the wrinkles out of her shirt and anxiously bounced on the balls of her feet. Her heart was probably pounding out of her chest. She turned her attention to Alex. “How do I look? Do I look good?”

“You look great.” Maria was going to fall head over heels for her. 

“I mean are you sure because I have a spare change of clothes in my---”

"Eliza," it was Alex’s turn to place his hands on Eliza’s shoulders; he could feel her heartbeat ringing all the way up to her shoulders and underneath Alex’s grasp. “You look amazing. Go talk to her.” 

She looked at him a moment, then took a breath, running her fingers through her hair. “Okay. Okay! We’re doing this. Right. I’ll talk to her.” She slipped out from Alex’s grip and made her way behind the bar, leaving a trail of anxiety flickering behind her.

A few moments later, Alex’s phone buzzed. 

**From John** : _I’ll be there in five minutes <3_

Alex’s heart leapt to his throat as he read the message. John was going to be here soon. What if he messes the date up? What if John never wants to talk to him again? What if he won’t marry him and move to New York City with him and what if they don’t get to adopt ten kids and--- 

He realized he was beginning to sound like Eliza. 

**To John** : _I’ll order you a drink. What would you like?_

Alex tore his gaze away from his phone and glanced at Eliza and Maria on the counter of the bar. He still leaning on the wall next to the girls’ bathroom, his head slightly beginning to go fuzzy at the thought of John arriving at any time. He couldn’t make out what the girls were saying to each other, but it was evident that Maria was flirting with her; he could have sworn he saw Eliza’s eyes flit down to her low v-neck for half a second. Maria’s martini was left unattended while Eliza was bent over the counter, drinking in Maria’s personality with every word she spoke. Alex was pretty sure that Eliza’s shift ended in five minutes, which meant that she wouldn’t get to experience his date with John; Eliza would probably be experiencing something _very_ different before the night ended. Different and loud and requiring some pillows. 

His phone vibrated in his hand. 

**From John** : _Surprise me._

Alex stuffed his phone in his pocket and warily strode over to the bar again. He didn’t want to interrupt Eliza and Maria, but he didn’t want to forget to order John a drink and have him show up without having ordered him one. That would have been strike one on Alex’s mental fuck-up list. As he approached, he caught bits and pieces of what they were saying to each other.

“---so if your shift ends now, we could have a drink at my place if you want.” Maria had two fingers caressing Eliza’s wrist over the counter; Alex wondered if she could feel Eliza’s inhumanely fast pulse through her pale skin.

“Oh! Oh sure! That would be great. I’d love a drink. Well, technically I always love drinks, since I’m a bartender and all, but I’d love to come over to have a drink with you.” Alex could tell Eliza was struggling to keep her voice from wobbling. 

Maria threw her head back and laughed. “Oh my god, you’re adorable.” The comment sent a shock wave through Eliza and Alex wondered if she was about to faint.  
Eliza locked eyes with Alex as he came closer to the bar; her gaze told him that she was internally squealing and screaming at the top of her lungs inside her head. Alex couldn’t blame her. 

“Alex!” Eliza said, nervously smiling as Maria continued to stroke her wrist. “My shift is over, so I’m about to go. I’ll see you later.”

“Wait,” Alex said, apologetically, “before you go, can you get me one of those martinis Maria has? Sorry, I meant to ask you earlier.”

Eliza faked a dramatic sigh. “Ugh, I _guess_ so.” She smiled at him as slid out of Maria’s grasp and picked up her drink-mixing equipment to whip up her final drink of the night. She turned her back to Maria and grabbed a martini glass, polishing it up with a small cloth. 

A small clang rang out from the floor as Maria dropped her cell phone. Sighing, she bent down to pick it up.

As soon as Eliza was out of Maria’s line of vision, Eliza put the martini glass on the counter, turned to Alex, and started flailing.  
_OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD_ , she furiously mouthed at him for about a second and a half; Alex mouthed _IKNOWIKNOWIKNOW_ , mocking her playfully.

Once Maria came back up from the floor, Eliza frantically grabbed the glass again and began to mix the martini as if nothing had happened. 

Alex covered his mouth with his hand, trying with all his effort not to laugh. 

Maria beamed at him once the martini was finished and placed in front of him. “You have good taste in drinks.” She gave him a sly grin and nodded at the drink; then she glanced at Eliza, taking a deep breath. “You ready to go?” She said with a cinnamon-flavored smile on her face.

“Um,” Eliza dove under the bar and scrambled for her bag. When she found it, she thrust it over her shoulder in a rush and grinned at Maria. “Yep! Let’s go.”

Maria turned to Alex and outstretched a hand. “Nice to meet you Alex. I’m sure we’ll meet again in the future.” Alex took her hand and shook it; she pulled away, leaving a dash of cinnamon in his hand again, then put her arms around Eliza’s shoulders and led her into the sparkling mist of the evening. They carried an aura full of comfortability and coziness as they crossed the threshold of the door and swayed into the parking lot. 

Alex felt something in his hand; Maria had left him a small, folded piece of paper when she had shaken it. Sitting down at his barstool, he opened Maria’s note and scanned his eyes over the immaculate penmanship:

_Alex,_

_Thank you for talking to Eliza for me._

_I owe you one._

_XOXO, Maria Reynolds._

Alex grinned at the paper. His mind brought him back to Angelica, sitting on his dorm room couch with a cup of tea in her hands and fleeting thoughts on her mind; she normally came to Alex’s dorm with midnight thoughts, but that night she had been worried about Eliza. Eliza was constantly placing more schoolwork on herself during high school and Angelica hadn’t known when it would stop. Eliza was in college now, on the same campus as Alex but with fewer classes at Angelica’s request. She loved to keep herself busy, which was probably the reason she took a part time job at the bar when she was still a student. He didn’t know if Angelica knew about it. If she finds out, she’ll make Eliza quit; however, Alex could convince Angelica to let her keep the job. After what occurred tonight, there was no way Angelica could be mad at her sister for putting more work on herself; she would probably be thrilled that her sister had found someone to distract her from work a bit. 

As he was folding the note up and sticking it into his pocket, the door opened and John strode into the bar, his hands in his pockets and confidence in his stride.  
He looked fucking _angelic._

Alex’s heart skipped a beat or two.

John’s hair was down and windswept from the evening air as he scanned the bar for Alex. They locked eyes.

Okay, three beats.

John flashed him an award-winning smile from the doorway.

Four.

_Calm down,_ he told himself. _John’s great; you can’t mess this up_.

Thinking back to previous dates, he probably could. 

_Breathe._

John began to walk toward the empty seat next to Alex. Shrugging off his coat, he draped it against the back of the chair and sat down next to Alex, beaming. He gave off a glowing aura that immediately relaxed him.

Maybe he wouldn’t mess this up after all.

“Sooo,” John said with a grin; he lightly bumped his shoulder against Alex’s and Alex was 99% sure this was a dream. “Did you turn in your essay?”

“Yep!” Alex thought through each word, trying not to sound stupid. “All 20 pages. My friend Angelica was jealous that I could get it done so fast. It was probably because I had the _oh-so-generous_ John Laurens to help me.”

John laughed, sending Alex to Cloud Nine. “If you need my help with anything else, just text me.”

_Oh yeah,_ Alex thought. _I think my zipper’s down, can you help me with that? While you’re at it, just keep your hand there. Minus the clothing. Maybe pinned against the wall._

Alex momentarily cut the cord to his thoughts before it got too heated. 

He slid the martini Eliza made over to John. “I hope you like martinis,” he said with a grin.

John smiled right back at him. “I happen to love martinis, Alexander. Thank you for ordering this for me.”

The way he said ‘Alexander’ shot chills down his spine and turned his cheeks red. He wanted John to say his name again. And again. And again, but maybe while laying on the mattress in his dorm covered in sweat and---

_Focus._

John’s hand curled around the handle of the martini glass; Alex had the overwhelming urge to hold them, but he knew he couldn’t. That would be too much too fast.

“So, John,” Alex started with a smirk painted across his face, “about your hiccuping…”

“Oh, don’t even start,” John let out a laugh, looking at Alex affectionately, making Alex internally swoon. 

The night went on in a flirty daze, the soft piano music swirling around the room and another bartender (who had the shift after Eliza) serving drinks throughout the bar. John had finished his martini and began to pay for the rest of the drinks they ordered; Alex had offered to pay for them, but John wouldn’t hear it. They ordered drink after drink, shared laugh after laugh, and had gaze after gaze that just _tore Alex up._ The alcohol had begun to get to them both, and anyone who had been near them at the time could have heard them giggling like schoolchildren. They weren’t drunk, just….tipsy. Sort of. Alex didn’t know. He just wanted to talk to John and make out with him and kiss him on his neck and leave a trail of kisses all the way down to his---

The alcohol was definitely getting to him.

“Hey,” John said, giving him a tipsy, almost sleepy smile. He grabbed Alex’s wrist the same way Maria had grabbed Eliza’s. A spark shot up his wrist, went over his shoulder, trailed down his spine and, frankly, reached its destination under the waistline of Alex’s jeans. He tried not to think about it too much. John leaned forward, not breaking his soft grasp of Alex’s wrist, and leaned right next to his ear, softly grazing it with his lips as he whispered. “Let’s get out of here.”

Ten thousand sparks shot through his body simultaneously and Alex wasn’t sure if he was in a coma or not. He locked eyes with John as he pulled away from his ear, still holding his hand on the counter, enthralled with his gaze as if he were seeing past the film of alcohol in his eyes and staring right into his soul. 

Alex wouldn’t have cared if the world had broken in two in that very moment.

“What do you say?” John asked, his voice soft and smooth and unlike anything Alex had heard before.

“Yes,” Alex choked, fumbling over his words. “Oh God, yes.”

Without missing a beat, John swiftly pulled him by the wrist out of the bar and into the misty parking lot. 

It was dark, with only a few cars left and the only light coming from the dim streetlights. 

But Alex wasn’t paying attention.

His mind was focused on the fact that John had pinned him up against the brick wall of the bar and that his forehead was pressed to his.

“I would offer to take you to my dorm,” John breathed, his breath laced with alcohol and desire, “but we’re both too tipsy to drive.”

“Honestly,” Alex leaned into his touch; John cupped his face with his hands and their lips were millimeters apart, “I could care less.”  
A few seconds went by. 

John sighed, closing his eyes. “Are you sure this is okay?”

“John.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Without a minute to spare, their lips crashed together against the brick wall of the bar. Alex saw stars, universes, galaxies in the feeling of John’s lips and it was like the world _had split in two._ John was the fault line in California, the Mariana Trench and Milky Way all in one; all breathtakingly beautiful and stunning and capable of tearing Alex’s life to the ground without a second to spare. John was every river, lake, and ocean, and Alex was dehydrated, desperate to drink up anything and everything that was John Laurens. He felt as if the moment could be captured in a picture, and covered in a thick line of film as it printed; Alex was the picture, defenseless and capable of being torn and ripped to pieces in that misty parking lot, and John was the film, sticking to every piece of Alex, never letting him go, covering him in a glossy coating of black and white film that left Alex weak. 

John Laurens took, took, took and Alexander Hamilton gave, gave, gave.

Alex laced his fingers through John’s curly locks of hair and John softly bit Alex’s lip, earning a whine from them both. John broke away from his lips and began to trail kisses down his neck, stopping and sucking on a sensitive spot on Alex’s collar. Alex couldn't fucking take it; he moaned and whined and whispered John’s name against the bricks, wrapping his arms around John’s neck and grasping onto him for dear life as John flipped his broken, halved world upside down. 

“ _God_ , Alex,” John moaned into his collar before kissing back up his neck and meeting his lips again. 

Drunk on martinis and beer and shots and each other, the brick wall was their only witness as they melded together, clashing bodies and whispering in ears. At one point, John had ground against Alex, putting more pressure in between him, John, and the wall and Alex had to bite John’s shoulder to keep from screaming. 

“John,” Alex babbled into his neck, “oh my god John _fuck_ ,”

But suddenly the alcohol had gotten to him too much too fast. 

Alex hiccuped into John’s shoulder. 

Once,

Twice, 

Three times.

It wasn't stopping.

The moment was gone and John burst into laughter, his shoulders moving up and down underneath Alex’s grip.

“Oh my god,” he said, his hands on Alex’s hips and not an inch of space between them, “oh my god, Alex, look who’s hiccuping now.”

Alex smiled into John’s shoulder, “Shut up.” He hiccuped again.

John let go of Alex and gave him a peck on the cheek, still laughing in a tipsy haze. “I should get this on video.”

“You record this,” _\---hiccup---_ “and I punch you in the face.”

“Oh, but you wouldn't hurt the _oh-so-devilishly handsome_ John Laurens, would you?”

“Hmm, I don't know,” _\---hiccup---_ “I’m thinking about it.” Alex gazed at him affectionately and laced their fingers together, resting his head on John’s shoulder. “We should call a cab.”

“Good idea.” John gave him a small kiss on top of his head.

With their fingers intertwined and alcohol coursing through their veins, they stepped in the cab and traveled back to John’s dorm to arrange a joint meeting between Alex, the _oh-so-amazing_ John Laurens, and John’s pillow.

The taxi driver got annoyed at the hiccups on the way there.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't drink and drive, kids. 
> 
> I just want to say thank you to Erin, one of my best friends who was my main source of feedback and who inspired me to keep writing this. Her fics are amazing too, you should check her out at @bitchythespianhologram. Thank you, slimy pickle. You're the bomb diggity.
> 
> In case you didn't translate the French:
> 
> Parlez-vous français?---do you speak French?
> 
> Ouais, je prends français depuis le lycée---Yeah, I've been taking French since high school
> 
> À plus tard---See you later
> 
> Si vous ne sortez pas bientôt, je vais shove les livres que je vous ai donné vos ânes---If you don't get out soon, I'll shove the books I gave you up your asses
> 
> S'il vous plaît---Please
> 
> Je parie que vous étiez---I bet you were
> 
> Tais-toi---Shut up
> 
> Au revoir---Goodbye
> 
> This all came from Google Translate. I don't speak French, so I'm sorry if I accidentally offended you with a translation or something. Blame Google.
> 
> And just so things are clear, I do not ship Eliza and Maria historically. I only ship them outside from the canon events. 
> 
> All feedback is appreciated. Thank you so much for reading! À plus tard!


End file.
